


Needs Well Met

by Flutiebear



Series: Walk Beside Me [3]
Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: As Claranon Said:, But In A Different Way This Time, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, I Love A Good Sad Wank Scene, Jealous Boyfriend Is Jealous, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sad Wanks In The Dark, Sex Pollen, She Said Like Someone With Normal Interests And Hobbies, Slight Spoilers For Erik's Act 2 Personal Quest, Story Spoilers Through Act 1 Dundrasil, Tagging Just To Be On The Safe Side, What Even Is This Flutie, What Have You Become
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 00:43:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17415707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutiebear/pseuds/Flutiebear
Summary: Since Octagonia, things have been different between you and The Luminary. You're not stupid. You know he's pulling away from you. That he's...replacingyou. But what else can you do, except let him?Erik is feeling a little insecure about where he stands. Then: Sex pollen happens.





	Needs Well Met

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Claranon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claranon/gifts).



> *looks at which number DQXI fic this is* _nice_
> 
> This takes place after all the hullabaloo in Dundrasil calms down, but before you go to The Strand for the first time--basically, in that gap of time when all you do is forge new weapons and do side quests for, like, ten hours.
> 
> *sigh* I'm so sorry, everybody. So, so sorry. But if I'm going to hell? I'm dragging you all with me.

"… It's the guards again, and they have us completely surrounded," says Terran to a chorus of shocked gasps. Though shadows from the firelight slant across his face, they do nothing to dim the eager glint in his eyes. "How many would you say there were, Erik?"

You shrug. Not that anybody notices. All five pairs of eyes around the camp are fixed on Terran, not you. You don't blame them. For a guy who usually lets his broadsword do the talking, Terran can be one heck of a storyteller.

Undaunted by your silence, Terran continues. "I think there were at least five on either side of us. No, seven."

"Seven! But that's practically a squadron!" Jade leans closer to Terran, her arm brushing his,  and your grip on the dagger you're sharpening tightens. "How ever did you manage to escape?"

"We didn't." Terran is loving every second of this, soaking up his companions' attention as a flame takes to kindling. Maybe, when this is all done, he could have a lucrative career as a performer in Sylvando's circus. "The bridge we were standing on gave way, right under our feet!"

Rab sadly shakes his head. "Ye know, I'd been telling Carnelian for years that he needed to invest more in infrastructure. The auld fool, he never did take a warning to heart."

"So what happened next?" asks Serena.

"They fell, of course," adds Veronica, just as you're about to answer. You sigh. Seriously, it's like you might as well not be here at all. 

"Exactly!" says Terran. "We fall down, down, I don't even know for how long, until finally we hit the bottom, and SPLASH!" With his hands, he mimes water exploding in all directions. "Into the water, we go."

"The," Jade wrinkles her nose, " _sewer_ water?"

Even Rab looks disgusted. "Och, laddie. That's foul."

"It was just water," you grumble. "You think the streams we drink from are any cleaner?"

Six heads swivel in your direction. For a long moment, the only sound is that of a log popping in the campfire.

"What?" you ask. "Deer gotta crap somewhere."

Wordlessly, everyone turns back to Terran.

"Anyway," he resumes, and it's as if you'd never spoken at all, "the current carried us along to a small cave, and we thought we had finally escaped, except…"

You tune him out. You remember the rest of the story well enough, anyway: the thundering dragon, the thrilling chase, the final escape. How could you ever forget that first burst of sunlight, bright and beautiful, the first you'd seen in over a year? Or the way your stomach sank as you saw all of Heliodor stretched before you, with no way down except, well, _down_?

And how could you forget the way your heart skipped when you locked eyes with Terran and, in silent yet perfect accord, together made the decision to leap?    

Those days seem so far away now.

Since Octagonia, it's been different between you and Terran. For starters, he's always in the company of Rab and Jade now, trading stories and jokes, learning the history his family and his people. You can't begrudge him that—Yggdrasil knows you wish you'd had the same opportunity with your own folks, whoever they were—but it's meant that you and Terran haven't been alone in weeks. In fact, whenever it does seem like you two might finally be on your own, that's when Terran suddenly remembers something in need of forging or equipment that needs resorting; or he's caught by an abrupt wave of fatigue and needs a lie-down at once.

You're not stupid. You know he's pulling away from you. That he's… _replacing_ you. But what can you do except let him? A man needs his space, after all; and if nothing else, you've always made sure that Terran's needs are well-met.

Besides, he can't avoid you, if you avoid him first.

"I'm going to bed," you announce, interrupting Terran mid-sentence.

"See you in the morning." He waves in your vague direction but doesn't look at you. Nobody else does either. "So Erik and I squeeze through the crack in the wall, and we think we're safe, but just then…"

You watch Terran for a moment longer than necessary, transfixed by the way the firelight catches in his hair and warms his skin to gold. A long-buried pang in your chest aches anew.     

Then he lifts his chin, and before your gazes can meet, you turn away and disappear into the tent.

Once inside, you shuck your boots and set your daggers' within arms' reach; then you lay out your bedroll in your usual spot, the one nearest the tent flap. The one next to Terran. That's the way it's been for months now, and until you're told otherwise, that's the way it's going to continue to be.

These days, it seems like the only time you feel close to Terran is when you're both asleep.

As you curl under your blanket, Jade's muffled voice pierces the thick tent canvas. "I'd no idea a dragon nested beneath Heliodor City. It's a safety hazard, if nothing else. Someone really ought to tell my father about it."

Rab snorts. "How ye gonna do a thing like that, lassie? By signal fire?"

"I was thinking an anonymous note," she replies archly. "Perhaps we could send a messenger hawk to Hendrik."

"And give away our position?" For once, you appreciate the edge in Veronica's tone. Yggdrasil bless that little firecracker. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're trying to _hide_ Terran from Hendrik, not invite him to afternoon tea."

You shiver, drawing the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Terran doesn't even need you to be his voice of reason any longer; not when Veronica's so capable. You could vanish tomorrow, and he might not even notice.

You close your eyes and try to remember what it felt like to be on your own; to sleep under the stars, just you and a million points of light, twinkling hopelessly toward each other in the dark. 

***

You awaken sometime in the night to a hand on your hip.

 _Terran's_ hand.

The long fingers rest limply against your hip bone. His touch is soft, motionless. His thumb and forefinger have tucked themselves just under your tunic, curving gently against your bare skin like a beckon.   

Your pulse pounds. Terran has never reached for you like this before.

Nobody has.    

"Hey," you whisper. "Hey, Terran. You awake?"

He doesn't respond. The only noises in the tent are six snores of varying intensity. Behind you, Terran's breath remains slow and steady, each exhale stirring the soft hairs at the back of your neck.

Your eyes flutter shut.

Terran smells like camp smoke and sword oil and stale sweat from what you can only guess was a late-night session at the forge. He needs a bath. Desperately. But you don't care. You want to press backward and envelop yourself in his scent, to rub in him like some kind of street cur.

 _What happened to me?_ says a voice in your head that sounds suspiciously like Mia's. _I used to have things under control. When did I become so fucking desperate?_

Heat radiates against your backside, warm and inviting. His hips are mere inches away. It would be easy, so easy, for him to surge forward, to take you in his arms. To slip himself between your thighs, hard and aching; to reach around and take your dick in those long, clever fingers of his. To move together in the dark, skin against skin, all sweat and heat. To rock into each other, like boats carried by the ocean.

He'd sigh your name into your hair as he came; and you'd know, then and forever, that you were his.

You loosen your trouser laces and free yourself. Squeezing your eyes shut, you imagine Terran gripping you tight, squeezing you as he stroked; murmuring in your ear, soft and fervent as a prayer. You're so desperate that it takes you only a few strokes to come, messily, all over your hand.

Behind you, there is a soft moan.

Heart in your throat, you fall still. You wait, like a hare waiting for the wolf to pass. Fortunately, however, Terran's breath remains slow and even. He does not whimper in his sleep again.

Eventually, you relax. You even dare to wipe your hand on the underside of your bedroll.

Then, unable to stop yourself, you briefly let your other hand come up to meet his, grazing the tips of your fingertips together. It would be so easy, you think. The easiest thing you'd ever do.

You let your hand fall away. 

***

Rain pattering on the tent canvas wakes you. Disoriented, you open your eyes and take a few breaths to center yourself. You note, with some dismay, that your hand still feels sticky.

As you exit the tent, you lock eyes with Terran, who smiles shyly at you then looks away, the barest flush creeping up his cheeks. For a heartbeat, you're sure he knows what you did last night. But he couldn't… could he?

You run a hand through your hair. It's sticking straight up, in all directions. You must look ridiculous. No matter. The rain will settle it down, eventually.

"Hey, lazybones," he says. "We're going hunting for forging supplies." He tightens the strap on his pouch, securing it against his hip. The hip that last night you so vividly imagined slamming into yours. "You want in?"

You hide your surprise with a yawn. It's the first time Terran has asked for your company on an outing in almost two weeks. Of course you're fucking in. "Yeah. Just gimme a sec. Gotta piss and grab a quick bite to eat first."

"Ugh." You turn your head just in time to see Jade finish lacing her boots. Disgust twists the corners of her mouth downward. "Not at the same time, I hope."

Your heart sinks as she comes to stand next to Sylvando, who Terran has also apparently recruited for this early morning jaunt. Sylv regards her with barely contained glee, as if she were a small puppy. He leans over to Jade and says, _sotto voce,_ "Don't be silly, honey. He'd at least wash his hands first."

"Hopefully not in the stream." Her tone is sly, teasing, vicious. "I heard somewhere that deer crap in them."

With your hopeful feelings all but evaporated, you glare at Terran—but the bastard won't even look your way, as usual. Worse, you swear he's fighting back a smile.   

" _She's_ coming?" you bark at him. "Really?"

Jade quirks her eyebrow. "Is there a problem with that plan?"

When Terran still won't meet your gaze, you throw up your hands. "No," you huff, "Guess not."

Sylv's gaze bounces between you, Jade and Terran. Then he claps his hands together.

"Alright, come on, sourpusses! Terran's got hammers to bang, which means we've got monsters to hunt." He turns to Jade, a thoughtful finger to his chin. "You know, I always feel bad squashing the poor ldears just to make a better sword or whip. It's not like they were doing anything wrong."

"Hmm. When you put it that way, I suppose that we _are_ the evil invaders on their territory," agrees Jade, and though their banter continues, you stop paying attention, preferring instead to stomp off behind the tent and relieve yourself.

Stabbing some monsters does sound like a really good plan right now.

By the time you've finished up, Sylv and Jade have already set forth down the ravine path, leaving you, Terran and the camp behind. Incredibly, they are somehow still talking about the ethics of harvesting monsters.

"But I don't see how chimeras could respond to an honorably-issued challenge, even if they wanted to," says Jade. "They have neither arms with which to salute nor waists with which to bow."

"Maybe they could flap their wings a little," Sylv offers, "like angry little butterflies."

"They'd fry you without a second thought, you know!" you call out after them, but Jade and Sylv ignore you. Shaking your head, you turn back to Terran. "You believe this? They're gonna make us duel every monster we meet from now on." 

"Sounds exhausting." Terran flashes you that shy smile again, and your breath catches in your throat. "Can I be your second?"

 _My first, my only._ You turn to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

"No way, I'm too delicate for duels." You focus intently on adjusting your daggers in their bindings, twisting this way and that to get them in just the right position. "Backstabbing's more my style. Strike fast, then get out before things get hairy."   

"Leaving me to finish the job." Terran starts walking down the path after the others, and you keep pace, grateful to have something else to pay attention to besides the fall of his hair and the swell of his cheek. "As always."

"Hey, you're the one who likes to go around problem solving."

"Only when my partner isn't the one creating the problems."

"What can you do?" You shrug. "Everybody's gotta contribute somehow."

"Good point," he says, even though it isn't really.

It doesn't escape you that finally, _finally_ the two of you are alone. And Terran hasn't balked, he hasn't made excuses, he hasn't run to catch up with Jade and Sylvando. For once, he seems content to simply be with you, walking side-by-side in the quiet drizzle.

It's nice. Really nice.

"Why'd you have to bring her?" You try to keep the growl from your voice as best you can.

"Because, I thought it'd be good for the two of you to get to know each other. She is sort of my sister, after all." He swipes a lock of rain-frizzed hair out of his eyes. "I know you two didn't get off on the right foot—"

"You can say that again." Your jaw aches just thinking about it.

"But she and Rab, they're the only family I've got, now that—well. You know."  

Your heart flops against your ribs. Cobblestone. Of course. You'd been so lost in your own insecurities that you'd mostly forgotten about the burnt-out husk that used to be his hometown. But he didn't. Obviously. Morcant's balls, you're a jackass. At least you never had any other family besides Mia to lose.

"Yeah." You rub the back of your burning neck with one hand. "Okay. If it's that important to you that we're all one big, happy family, then, uh, I guess I'll do my best."

"Thanks." He chews on his lower lip before speaking again. "Um. Erik?"

"Yeah?"

"You and me. We're good, right?"

"Yeah…?"

"You'd—uh—you'd tell me if we weren't. Right?"

Your brows knit together. You honestly can't imagine what he might be talking about. After all, _he's_ the one who's been ignoring you. "What do you mean?"

You two walk several more steps before he answers, the mountain gravel crunching beneath your boots. "It's nothing, I guess. Just—I don't know. Lately it feels like—like there's a distance. Between us."

"Huh." Every instinct fires at once, telling you to dash into the hills, to hide until the danger passes, to do whatever it takes to survive. "Well, everything's fine on my end."

"Oh. So, uh, I guess it's just me, then."

"Guess so."

Step, crunch. Step, crunch. "Okay."

"Okay."

You walk together for a few more heartbeats, before he nods at you and trots down the ravine to catch up with the others.

Your stomach drops as you watch Jade sling an arm around Terran's shoulders, and Sylv says something that makes them both double over in laughter. Rain trickles down your forehead, your cheeks; and you feel your world slip away from you, drop by drop.

You really are a jackass.

***

The four of you scrabble across the gloomy Dundrasilian countryside for hours. Terran is in search of a particular type of sentient fungus that only emerges when it rains. You spot plenty of the little buggers, but they're a shy sort; whenever you get too close, they scamper away.

Perhaps your footfalls are not as light as they usually are.  

Finally, you catch one, cornering him against the side of the ravine. The squat thing is ugly, and fast, and a hell of a spell caster. He knocks you on your ass with a fireball before you can land a killing strike.

Then Terran is sweeping in from the creature's flank, landing an overhand blow that ought to cleave the thing in two. Somehow, though, it's still standing.

"Thanks," you say, regaining your feet.

He nods. "You good?"  

"Yep."

And that's the last of the conversation as the two of you re-focus your attention on the creature. Combat is quick, furious. Together you and Terran move in perfect accord, his sweeping blade-strikes a complement to your knife slashes.

It's easy between you, for once. This, at least, still makes sense.   

You think you've almost got it down when the monster suddenly spurts a noxious, violet cloud that smells like rotting fruit.

You smoothly roll out of the way. Terran, however, is too slow and catches a mouthful.

He collapses, coughing.

In an instant, you're at his side. Heavy in your arms, he hacks wetly into your shoulder, as the rabid little fungus seizes its chance to scurry away.

Across the ravine, Jade starts toward you, but you wave her off. "I got this," you call out to her. "You two, go get that mushroom thing! Quick, before it gets away!"

With a determined nod, she and Sylvando pursue the fleeing creature into a thicket of trees. 

"Hey." You run your hands soothingly over Terran's shoulders and spine. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay. We're safe now. You're safe. I've got your back."

It takes him almost a full minute to stop coughing, and another after that for the wheezing to die down. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to have any open wounds or bleeding anywhere. Not that you'd have any bandages or healing spells to help if he did.

Eventually, he stills.

You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. "You okay?"

He nods.

"Yeah." His voice is hoarse. "I'm okay."

"Good." Reluctantly, you let your hand fall away. You rock back on your heels, willing your racing heart to settle, and wait for Terran to stand.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he opens his eyes. He blinks, slowly, as if seeing out of them for the first time. An odd purplish haze has tinted the corners of them.

"I want," he murmurs, then he stops to lick his lips.

"Yes?" Your hand goes to his shoulder to steady himself, and you. "What? What do you need?"

He meets your gaze.

He grins.

"I want to fuck you," he growls.

In your shock, you almost fall over. "W-what?"

"I said—" He launches himself at you with animal litheness. "— _I want to fuck you_."

Grabbing him at the wrists, you only barely stop him before he connects. His fingers waggle in your direction like tentacles, seeking purchase on your flesh.

"What th—Terr—stop!" Dammit, he is strong. _Really_ strong. "Wait!"

He snarls, his violet-fogged eyes wicked and wild.

"Dammit—hold—it—Terran!"

In the struggle, you lose your balance, and he is on you in an instant, seizing your cheeks with rain-slicked hands, crushing his mouth to yours. His touch is hungry and desperate. But his lips—sweet Yggdrasil, his lips are just as soft and delicious as you'd always dreamt they would be.

You can't believe this is happening. You're kissing Terran. _You're kissing Terran._

This is madness.

His mouth opens, forcing yours open as well. His tongue strokes yours, while one hand moves to twist in your tunic. His fingernails lightly score the scar over your heart. From the back of your throat comes a low, unbidden moan. 

Then you shove him back, scrabbling backward on your hands, well out of his reach.

"Shit." Your breathing is labored. Your bruised lips tingle. You have never felt so terrified in all your life. "What's gotten into you, man?"

Terran wipes his lips. Holding your gaze, he licks the side of his thumb, then shudders in obvious arousal at the taste. The taste of _you_. Your brain short-circuits at the sight. "I want to fuck you, Erik. _Now._ "

He lunges forward again.

You kick him in the face.

Your boot stops him. Momentarily.

"Terran. Take a deep breath. You're acting insane."

Terran's knuckles curl into the mud. Every inhale and exhale heaves his shoulders like an earthquake. "I'm perfectly sane. I know exactly what I want. And I want—"

"--Yes, yes, I know, you told me. Goddammit. Something's happened to you," you babble as you regain your feet. Distance. Yes, that's what you need between the two of you right now. Distance, and lots of it. "That poison did something to you. You've gone crazy."

"No." Terran stands as well. His shoulders slant; his muscles bunch, as if he were preparing for a sword strike. His pupils are blown so wide there's barely any trace of color left, purple or otherwise. "For the first time, Erik, I'm seeing everything clearly. It all makes sense now. You and me." He runs his tongue along his lower lip, chasing more of that taste, and oh, how your traitorous dick jumps at the sight. " _Partners_."    

He stalks you across the ravine; you take two steps backward for every one he takes forward. Frantically, you search the area, but Jade and Sylvando are nowhere in sight. Your daggers are… somewhere. He knocked them out of your reach when he first leapt. But you couldn't draw a blade on him anyway, not even if you wanted to.

Yggdrasil above, this is wrong. All wrong.

_And yet…_

You put your hands up in what you hope is a placating gesture. "Terran…"

"I've wanted to fuck you for months." His hair falls into his eyes, his mouth, and he shakes his head wildly, snapping, like he wants to rip the hair to pieces with his teeth. "Every night I've dreamt of it, of you, of all the things I'm going to do to you. Of how you'd come apart in my hands." He reaches for you. "I can't wait any longer. Don't make me wait any longer."

"Wait." Your voice is ragged. "Please. Shit, Terran. Let's just talk about this for a sec—"

You stumble on a rock.

Before you can fall, he grabs you by the tunic. He lifts you up, and you think maybe, maybe there's a way out of this, maybe he's left you an opening—  

He throws you against the nearest tree, tossing you as easily as a rag-doll. Your head thunks solidly against wood, and for a moment, you see stars. You didn't know he had that kind of strength in him, but in your darkest, wildest fantasies, you'd always really hoped.

Then Terran is on you. He kisses you frantically, like he's drowning, like you're the only air left in the world. His hands paw at your scalp, your cheeks, your jaw. He tugs your hair just until you gasp, baring your soft throat to his mouth, to his teeth. A sharp little pain on your shoulder makes you shiver.

Against the tree he pins you, locking you with his legs. His hands are on your shoulders, tearing your collar open, running calloused fingers across your naked skin, your ribs, your waist, anywhere he pleases; all the while his dick grinds into your hip and tree knots dig into your back and ass. You've nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.

No escape. 

"This is how it's going to happen," he rasps against your neck, your jaw, the curve of your ear. "First, you're going to get on your knees. Then you're going to take me in that beautiful mouth of yours. You're going to suck my cock. You're going to take everything I give you, and then you're going to beg me for _more_."

"Terran—" Somewhere in the back of your mind you know you have to stop him, stop this, but you don't know how and, sweet Yggdrasil above, you don't want to even attempt to figure it out. When he reaches into your trousers and takes you into the palm of his hand, you can't help but buck into his feverish touch. "Please—"

"Yes, like that. Just like that." He circles his thumb around your base. He squeezes you until you gasp. "Beg for it."

You groan, eyes drifting shut as you bare your neck once again to his devouring mouth. This isn't real. You _know_ this isn't real. And yet… you don't care. Right now you want this more than anything you have ever wanted in your entire life. Fuck, did you even know what want was before this? Before _him_?

Your chest aches, like it's going to be split open, burst by a heart too big for its cage.

"I need," you pant, unable to catch your breath.

"—you," he finishes for you.

When his mouth finds yours again, thought flees you entirely. Yes. You'll do it. You'll do anything he asks. You'll give him everything he wants—everything _you_ want. You'll suck his cock for days if he'll let you. You'll spread yourself for him, needful and shameless. You'll fall apart for him, again and again, just to know that you're wanted by him, that you're needed by him, just to believe that you and he are united in one, perfect whole. 

"I'm going to give you everything," he is saying against your neck, and it's nonsense, but you don't even care anymore, because one hand is working your cock now, stroking you further into madness, while the other unlaces your trousers and promises so much more, "I'm going to bury myself in you, deep, so very deep. It's going to feel so good. Erik, I'm going to make you feel so good." His breath stutters, hot and wet on your shoulder, as he ruts wildly against your thigh. "I'm going to make you come so hard that you'll never even think about shutting me out again. You are mine, Erik. Mine. Mine. _You are mine._ "

"Yours," you whisper hoarsely.

He pulls back, but only just. His violet-tinged eyes are mere slashes.

"Get on your knees," he commands.

Mouth watering, you feel your knees begin to buckle.    

Suddenly, there comes the sound of a hand cracking against skin.

Terran freezes. His hands go limp. His eyes roll back in his head. He slumps against you, heavy, insensate.

"Is everyone alright?" calls a voice. And it's—oh _god,_ it's Jade.

No.

_No._

It can't be. Not now. Not like this.

But it is.

And now Sylvando's by your side, hauling a motionless Terran off of you.  

"Oh, darling. _Darling,_ " he whispers. Sylv runs a hand over your hair, your cheeks. His expression is graver than you have ever seen it. He doesn't look down. Thank every star in the sky that Sylvando does not look down. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Speech escapes you, so you shake your head no. You're not sure where you are, who you are, what you are. You only know that everything you ever wanted was dangled before you, then cruelly snatched away.

Pulling the laces of your tunic together, you hug your arms across your chest. For the first time in your life, you feel cold.

Sylv's eyes drift to your shoulder. "You're bleeding."

"Oh." You pull back from his fingers and press your own to the spot. They come away pink and rainwashed. "I guess. I am."

His brows knit together. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Somehow, you manage to nod.  

"Sylv," your eyes suddenly sting, and you're glad for the rain, "don't say anything. Please."

He nods once, firmly. "Jade's coming. Fix yourself."

Turning around, Sylv strikes a gallant pose before you, his back suddenly as broad and impassable as a wall. He makes no indication of noticing your labored grunts as you wrangle your half-exposed dick into something of a manageable position back inside your trousers. 

You can hear rustling, as Jade approaches. "Sweet Yggdrasil, is he—"

"Oh honey, don't worry. Terran's fine." Sylv shuffles this way and that, putting that fancy circus footwork to good use as he blocks her from coming any closer. "They're both fine. We just startled the poor dears, that's all."

You can practically hear her frown. "What's wrong with Erik?"

"Nothing." Your fingers shake as you work the lacing. Stupid small eyelets. Who decided there should be so many tiny holes on trousers, anyway? "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine. He doesn't sound fine," says Jade to Sylv.

You adjust your sash and step out from behind Sylv and hope for the best.

At the sight of you, Jade's eyes widen.

"Look at him," she says up to Sylv, as if you can't hear, "He's all sweaty and red. He's about ready to throw up."

"I said, I'm _fine._ " You run a hand through your hair and try to will yourself into some semblance of calm. It almost works, until you spot Terran, still lying face-down in the dirt. Your throat seizes. You can still feel his fingers around your neck. "What happened to him?"

"Just a teensy, weensy Sobering Slap to bring our dear leader back to his senses. But, um, I may have overdone it." Sylv shifts from foot to foot. "I saw—I thought—well, I panicked."

Jade kneels at Terran's side. With the back of her hand, she brushes damp hair away from his cheek.

"My word, Sylvando. He's really out." She glares at you accusingly. "What happened here?"

"Poison." Each second that passes makes it easier to breathe, easier to speak. Easier to slip your careful mask back into place. "There was… pollen. From the mushroom. It made him go crazy. It was…" You shake your head. "You did the right thing, Sylv. Just in time."

If Jade notices the look the two of you share, she makes no indication. Her hand balls into a fist. "Curses. I didn't even think to bring any moonwort. We have to get him back to camp for healing. Quickly."

Jade starts to pick him up, but Sylv nudges her out of the way.

" _I'll_ carry him," says Sylv, hoisting Terran over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You can't help but notice that Sylv somehow manages to keep his charge facedown the entire time. "You two watch out for our patooties."

You don't protest. You're too busy trying to relearn how to walk, how to see, how to feel. 

***

Back at camp, Sylv lays Terran in the tent, while Jade follows. Ignoring everybody's questions, you leave without a word and take a long bath in the river running behind the goddess statue.

The water is ice-cold, and it feels like knives on your skin. You welcome it.

 _I don't want to fuck anybody else._ That's what Terran had said in Octagonia. Back then, it had just seemed a strange non sequitur; you hadn't quite understood what he'd meant.

You're pretty sure you got the picture now, though.

 _He wasn't in his right mind,_ you remind yourself over and over, until the words lose their meaning and just become echoes rattling around in your skull. Even if Terran did say all those things—even if he did _things_ to you—it was the pollen talking. Not Terran. Because Terran wasn't in his right mind. _He wasn't in his right mind._

But you were.

You most definitely were.

And you took advantage of the situation—of him—your best friend, your partner, your only ticket to salvation—all to indulge in your darkest, most twisted fantasies.

You've destroyed _everything._

Eventually you dress and return to camp. You open your pack and reorganize its contents. At dinner time, Serena leaves a bowl of soup at your feet, but otherwise, the rest of the group leaves you alone.

For her part, Jade doesn't leave the tent, staying by Terran's side for the rest of the afternoon. Her possessiveness probably ought to bother you, and maybe yesterday it would have. But you're too inside your own head right now to be concerned over much about anybody else.

Terran sleeps for hours. The more time that passes, the antsier you feel. You don't know what happens next, or even what _should_ happen next. Should you leave right now? Should you wait until Terran wakes? Should you tell the others? What would be the easiest path? The least painful one?

You don't have the slightest clue.

The uncertainty reminds you of that first night after you left the Vikings, stowed away on a ship bound for the Emerald Coast, without a penny to your name or even the slightest idea of how to help your sister—just a lost soul adrift on an impossibly wide ocean, alone. 

By the time Terran exits the tent, night has fallen and the other companions have taken their customary places around the fire. Terran's face is pale, his hair dirty and matted.

He does not look in your direction.

Instantly you realize waiting was the wrong choice. You should have left hours ago. Because now you'll have to say goodbye.

"Hey, he lives!" You try for casual, but even you can hear the hitch in your tone. "How you feeling, buddy?"

He tries to run a hand through his hair, but gives up when his fingers hit a snarl.

"Better," he mumbles. "I guess."

"You hungry?"

He shakes his head.

Silence settles around the campfire.

Your legs itch. Maybe you could still make a break for it. There's always time to run. 

Suddenly, Rab yawns.

"Och, I'm feeling a wee bit bushed," he says. "Think I'll turn in."

Sylv stretches his arms exaggeratedly. "Me too. I'm pooped. I need my beauty sleep."

"Early to bed and early to rise, as the elder always said," adds Serena. Even Jade rises silently, somewhat to your surprise. 

"What are you all going on about?" Veronica looks around her. "It's barely past dusk."

"Come on, Ronnie," says Sylv, grabbing her by the back of her dress and hauling her into the tent.

Then it's just you.

And him.

Together.

Alone.

You chuckle hollowly. "Glad to see you up and about again. You took a hell of a hard fall." 

"Yeah, that monster—" Even in the low light of the campfire you can easily spot the flush on his cheeks, which in turn makes your own face feel hot, "—it really did a number on me, I guess."

"We're not in Heliodor anymore. Gotta watch out for stronger monsters."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

The fire pops. "You said that already."

"Right. I did. Um. So. I'm—uh—"

Your heart sinks. Of course, he wants to _talk_ about what happened. Why does Terran always have to talk about things? Why can't he be the other kind of hero, the stoic and silent kind? Why does he always have to pick up the rock to see what's crawling around on the other side?

 _Just get up and go,_ you tell yourself. It won't get any easier, the longer you wait to do it.

"Well," you say, bringing yourself to your feet. "It's getting late. Guess I should get going, too."

"Wait." Terran's voice is a strangled gasp. "Just a moment, Erik. Please."

You stop. You can't make your feet move. By Yggdrasil above, you could never deny him anything. Especially not now, with the sweet, hot taste of him lingering on your tongue and the phantom press of his cock against your thigh.   

He gulps. "I did something to you."   

You laugh without a trace of mirth.   

"Uh. A little. It's not—well—" You can't even look at him. "I mean. You were there."

"I know. But…"

"Wait." You inhale sharply, steeling yourself against the flicker of hope come to life in your chest. "Don't you remember?"

"Um." His face is beet-red. "Not much. Mostly just flashes. Images. Things that can't—that don't make sense."

You inspect his face carefully. But he really does seem to be telling the truth, mostly because he always has before. You're not sure Terran could bring himself to lie, even if his life depended on it.

You feel like collapsing in on yourself with relief.

_He doesn't remember._

This changes everything. It shouldn't. But it does.

"Oh, okay then." You swallow thickly. "Don't worry about it."

"But," he takes a deep, steadying breath, "I—I hurt you. Didn't I?"

 _Not as much as I thought I'd hurt you._ You wave your hand dismissively. "Nah. We're good. Everybody's good."

 In Terran's lap, his fingers twitch, as if he is recalling a weight they'd once carried: the heft of a sword, perhaps, or the hold of a dagger. Your cock jumps at the sight.

 _Mine_ , he'd hissed into your ear. _You are mine._

You push it away. You push it all away. If Terran doesn't remember, that means things can go back to the way they were. The way they ought to have been from the start. Terran would never need to know what his desire awakened in you. How far you would have gone to get what you wanted.

You can live with that.

"Whatever I did to you, I'm sorry for it." He finally meets your eyes, briefly, before his gaze darts away. "Erik, I am so, so sorry for it."

"Don't be." Your voice cracks, so you clear your throat and try again. "Don't be. Really. It's all okay now. Just make sure you wear a charm against beguilement in the future, I guess."

You've got to get away from him, fast, before he starts talking again, before he asks you questions that you can't answer, before he says something that neither of you can take back.

"Erik—" he begins as you walk past him.

You lay one hand on his shoulder, anything to stop him from talking. "Don't mention it."

Either he is too jumpy right now or you linger too long, because suddenly his hand is on top of yours, and your fingers are dangerously close to intertwining. 

"I'm sorry," he says brokenly, as he touches his forehead to your knuckles.

You squeeze his shoulder. Then, despite everything, you lift your forefinger and run it soothingly along the worry lines already starting to carve their way across the soft skin of his brow.

You would give him anything. You really would. At the very least, you can give him this.

"I said—" You lean close to the shell of his ear, so close that you can smell the sweat-damp and campfire smoke in his hair. Your back aches where a knot of the tree had dug into it. "—don't mention it."

He nods, and you let go. You flex your fingers. Without him, they feel stiff, empty. Cold.

Then you lift the tent flap and go inside, where everyone is pretending very hard to already be asleep. Sylv, bless him, is in Terran's spot. He opens his eyes, and gives you a wink, then closes them again. Good old Sylvando. You owe him one.

Several hours later, Terran enters the tent. Seeing his usual spot taken, he curls up next to Rab, in the farthest corner away from you.

Your fingers drift to your lips. You can still taste Terran there, sweet and hungry and pure. It'll be your little secret. Just between you and the darkness. 

Nobody else needs to know.  


End file.
